“We almost kissed!” His voice rises. “I told you I loved you. If Gabe hadn’t burst in, you were going to kiss me back.”
“Yes.” I look down at the ground. “And it would have been a mistake.”
“A mistake . . . ,” he says softly. His eyes fill with tears.
“Jamie . . .” I move closer to him, just as headlights engulf us. A green Kia pulls up to the curb.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sorry this is so complicated. . . .”
“But you see, it’s not.” A tear slips down his cheek. “You either like me. Or you don’t. It’s really as simple as that.”
“Jamie.” I take his hand in mine. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go. I’m not explaining myself well. . . .”
And for the first time ever—Jamie pulls away from me.
“You’ve explained well enough,” he says evenly. “Safe drive home. And you should ask your parents for that car now. You’ve definitely earned it.”
I get in the car. It pulls away and turns down the road. Jamie’s figure grows smaller and smaller, until it’s out of sight.
Until now I thought the word heartbreak was a cheesy poetic term—not an actual breaking that splinters down to the core of your being.
As the car pulls onto the highway, I sink my head into my hands.
Only now do I begin to cry.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jamie
I don’t even know if I slept. I feel so bleary and strange, like my head’s been stuffed with cotton.
It’s all one giant blur. I barely remember getting home from the venue. There’s a croissant on my nightstand—Grandma must have snuck in here before she left this morning. And Boomer’s curled at the end of my bed. He hasn’t left my side all night.
My whole face hurts from crying. I don’t think I’ve cried like this in years, maybe not since Grandpa died. Everyone says crying’s supposed to help. It’s supposed to get rid of toxins or release endorphins or recharge you or something. But I don’t feel recharged. I barely have the energy to lift my phone off my nightstand.
I’ve never gotten so many texts in my life. Texts from Nolan, old camp friends, Felipe’s sister, and this guy Peter from Academic Bowl. Thirty-six texts on the group chat with Drew and Felipe. Texts from literally everyone. Except Maya.
And they keep coming. A new one pops up from Alison, the campaign intern. Whoa, you and Maya are on Buzzfeed!!!! There’s a link, but I don’t even need to click it. The headline tells me everything I need to know. These two teens fell in love working on a local Democratic campaign, and my heart is too full. The preview photo is Maddie’s picture. Of us.
I shove my phone back in its charger, flipping it facedown.
I just can’t believe it’s all over. Everything. Our campaign work, our friendship, and everything else I was stupid enough to hope for. I thought this would end like a movie. I honestly thought that. Awkward nerdy guy gets the dream girl. I mean, Maya said she wanted to kiss me. And her coatroom cake smash. Hands down, the sexiest moment of my entire life. I can hardly believe that was yesterday. Twelve hours ago. I still have icing on my wrist. Not the shape of a heart anymore—just a few smudges remaining. I guess it’s fitting.
It’s barely eight when Mom knocks on my door, but who cares? I’ve been up for hours.
“Hey. I’ve got leftover bagels.” She sets a plate next to the untouched croissant on my nightstand, before nudging Boomer off the bed and stealing his spot. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
I groan into my pillow.
“Not your best night, huh?”
I mean, that’s the crazy thing. Most of the night was good. It was incredible. The music, the hora, even the toast. And Maya. Who said she liked me. Who fit so perfectly under my chin on the dance floor.
One Instagram post ruined everything. Every single thing.
“Want to talk about it?” Mom asks.
I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes. “Not really.”
Everything was fine. It was fine.
Yeah, the picture was weird. Obviously, I wasn’t cool with Maddie spying on us from the bushes, or wherever the hell she was, and Gabe putting it online was even worse. But Maya completely freaked out. I’ve never seen her go pale like that. She could barely speak at first. And the look on her face when she read the comments, like the idea of people knowing about